About last night (a poetic)

Legs twined. Our fingers climbed each other through the night.
Scarves undone.
My locks tangled yours
Little brown vines.
Inhale the moment
Before memory wakes us –
We are supposed to be angry
About something
Inconsequential.
We use eggshelled silence
To mask the sleep in our step.
Courteous and unremarkable
We play at passive anger
Feeding a tired ego.
Nonsequitor,
our lips reach one another.
Love is forever in the creases.